Sticky Side of Heaven


Please feel free to respond to any of my thoughts. I love interactive discussion!
My e-mail is liltoad2000@aol.com.

 
Took Will shopping last night. We desperately needed food, lots of it. So the two of us spent two hours in one of the largest grocery-only stores I have ever been in. I can't tell you enough what a good little boy he is! I don't know how many people can sit in a cart for 2 hours and be pleasant the whole time, a difficult task indeed :) He had cranky moments and mom bought a lot of things that wern't on her list, but it was a fair trade. He is learning lots and lots of new words everyday...let's see "pumpkin, tree, rice, coffee." Oh, I took him to work the other day before taking him to an appointment and he held my coffee cup and walked around the office and offered all the clients a cup of coffee, "coffee? coffee?" Tells you how bad mom's habit is!! Tonight is Halloween and I might take him to the neighbors house to ring the bell but that's it. We will stay home and pass out candy. I'm sure that will be bewildering for him. Not sure how to keep kids from ringing on the bell while I'm putting him to sleep. I'm going to turn the porch light off but I don't know how many that will keep away. Should I put a sign up "Keep Away!! Nasty Witch lives here!!! Ring the bell and Die!" HeeHee! I'd sure have fun making that sign :) The pumpkin I carved last week has caved in a little bit, giving it a wonderful effect of death and decay.

After he's asleep I guess I'll pass out the candy I have untill its all gone. Should take about 5 minutes or so :) I only bought two small bags, however, if I don't pass it all out then I will be the one eating what's left, not a good thing!! Americans spend about 7 billion dollars on halloween, 1.7 billion dollars on candy alone!!!! Halloween is one of my favorite holidays (cause its in my birthday month, of course) but I recoil from the intense merchandising that has sprung up from it. I like carved pumpkins, pumpkin pie and real costumes...the kind that you made at home. Now you go out and by the precarved pumpkin, the prebaked pie, and a $40 costume with a makeup kit. Where's the family involvement? It's my favorite holiday because I have such wondrous memories of it. I think back and remember the colorful cold promise of winter outside, the warmth inside (especially in the kitchen), going to pick out a huge pumpkin with my mom and picking up the smaller sugar pumpkins at the same time. Then learning how to bake the sugar pumpkins while carving the jack o lantern into fantastic faces that I would dream up. Salting and baking the seeds and making pumpkin pie and soup out of the baked pumpkin. I loved adding lots of pumpkin pie spice to everything and then sometimes we would splurge on some early eggnog and I would add the spice to that. "Here, taste some of this eggnog, Jen." "No!" :) It was definitely my favorite time of the year. I hope I can pass some of that on to Will. I like to remind myself of the original reason for the holiday, as a day of the dead, to remember them, respect them and honor them. And then to remember our own mortlity, that this too shall pass, not just in an individual sense but in a world sense. The human race will not last forever and a day. That is harder for me to comprehend than my own mortality. I think I shall light a candle tonight to remind me of all that has passed and all that is yet to be and to remember that the only thing I can hold lightly in my hands is the fleeting moment of today.

I have a lion costume for Will, I will try to take a picture of him before he rips it off :) I do have a lot of undeveloped film as I have been busy taking pictures. I just need to drop it off somewhere!


posted by Candice at 1:47 PM

 
A message from FAB "You hold your children's hand for a little while...their hearts forever...LOVE YA!"

This evening marked a night of contrasts. It has become my custom in the evenings to put Will to bed, work hard on something for a few hours and then spend a short while in my new library cuddled under a warm blanket with a cup of tea and a book. Tonight I popped up a special treat of parmesan popcorn (sorry nana!) and warmed up my footwarmer bean bag for toasty toes. I turned on my CD of very relaxing and mellow bamboo flute music and softened the lights. After a bit of delicious reading, I looked up from my book and discovered how utterly peaceful I felt. This place is shaping up to be a 'home.' I love the feeling of being settled, organized and clean. Sure, I still have work to do but many years ago I mastered the fine art of not letting stuff undone bother me. I can't remember the last time I felt so utterly relaxed and content. All I needed to complete the picture was a purring cat sharing my contentment and warmth and calmness.

I reluctantly got up to prepare everything for tomorow morning's rush. For some reason I was being more meticulous than usual and I decided to try on my choice of outfit and see if it still fit. Fourty five minutes and 12 outfits later I finally gave up and settled on an ratty old sweater I have and some khakis. I'm not sure what the problem exactly was, whether I was seeing all my outfits in a new light or if I had gained a few pounds in the two months that all my clothes were in storage. Needless to say, my feelings of contentment and peace and satisfaction with myself were gone, right off the map.

As I sit here in my plush bathrobe, I feel very comfortable with myself. But put me in 'professional' clothes and force me to look at myself in a mirror, I just want to cry. Can someone tell me what the definition of a professional outfit is??? Is it something that I am comfortable in that I can do my best thinking and thus serve the client best. Or is is something that looks expensive and uncomfortable, like fine silk and linen (and don't make me mention heels)? I'm struggling to find a happy medium between these two points that also will present nicely on my large frame. I bought two rather expensive pair of pants at a large women's store and loved them very much because they were comfortable. I wore them often until I caught a glance in the mirror and got a vivid impression of John Candy's 'fat pants.' They 'bagged' just like his did, in all the wrong places.

Mirrors are nasty little things. I have this gorgeous woman inside of me that floats around gracefully all day long until I catch an eyeful in a mirror and suddenly feel like a clown wearing an inner tube and two float balls in front. The sight of myself is incongruent with how I feel about myself and I haven't been able to reconcile the two. Hmm, I'll figure out something, I guess :)
posted by Candice at 8:52 PM

 
If you are ever thinking about tripping in a parking lot, falling flat on your face, scraping up your knees and in general losing all sense of dignity, then do it on your way to the doctors office. Hey, why not? Its the best way to fit it into a busy day and still nurture yourself. I was on my way to 'demonstrate my compliance to hospital policy by receiving all necessary poisonous injections', it was early in the morning and I had a busy day planned. I’m so glad my coffee container is shatter-proof, my pants are rip free and I have no dignity in general. Anyway, I limped into the dr's office and got all the tender loving care I could hope for. Wellll, the nurse didn't exactly kiss my knee but she did recommend that I use the tape and gauze rather than a Band-Aid so I wouldn't rip all the unshaven hair off my knee. ('Oh my!' she said when she saw all the hair.) I realized immediately that this might potentially be a good reason to shave, kind of like the admonition of always wearing clean underwear in case you have to go to the emergency room. "Always shave in case you have to get your knee bandaged up." What on earth do men do with all that hair on their legs? Poor things! I also pity men in that they will never know the joy of wearing nylons. Although there are a few enlightened men out there who have realized this, they won't tell the rest of them for some reason. I doubt that is popular fodder for the locker room discussion. "Hey dude! Nice toe seam!" "Man, I need a good pair of control tops, this jelly roll of mine is doubling over...do my legs look fat?" If someone would just suggest that nylons under pants are a great way to keep warmer during the winter months, maybe it would catch on more. Wait a minute, isn't that the function of leg hair? Have we women got it all back asswards? Keep the hair, ditch the nylons???

I wish I could go back in time and tell all those '30's flapper girls that they were going astray major when they started wearing hose just so they could shorten their hemlines and still say their legs were covered decently. Then I'd go talk reason to the people running WWII when they requisitioned all the nylon (which is suspicious anyway, there weren't that many women in the army to use up all that nylon, the men must've been keeping warm). So then, the women started to shave to make it look as if they were wearing hose. After I finished with the war, I'd yell for a while at the ditzy women who went back to wearing hose but kept shaving!! Nuts! Don't get me started on Coco Channel and the anti-mushroom, pro-cancer craze she started, the hussy!! Made us all miserable!

Anyway, that wasn't meant to be a rant but I guess it was, how quaint. Especially when there are so many more salient things I could rant about. Like UPS for example. I was reduced to chasing the truck around the neighborhood in my car to get my packages, or rather, a promise to deliver my packages. I didn't have any $100 bills to slip him so I tried to give him an eyefull so he might be interested in coming back and in the meantime, actually deliver my boxes. I won't bore you with the intense details of my Herculean struggles with this giant over the past week, but suffice it to say that after three days of arguing with them, I actually asked them to send the boxes back to where they came from so I could have them shipped via a more accommodating carrier!! They thought that was a good idea! If I hadn't been crazy loco enough to chase a UPS truck like a common dog, that is probably what would be happening right now! Pththth!

I'm liking being on the east coast less and less, even though I am in the western part of New York, there is still very much an east coast attitude here. I've been trying to define east coast attitude for a while now, and the closest I've come is a lack of manners, high-strung personalities, quick to anger, slow to smile or even acknowledge that you exist, and in general a very money-grubbing and scamming attitude here. Take for example the guy with tinted windows on his car who had to reach across and open the passenger door just to yell at another driver and make sure this guy knew how angry he was, and the supermarkets, good grief! They are a free for all! If you get in someone's way, which is constantly the case, you will get some rather nasty looks. I've had people act as if I'm not even there and physically displace me. Everyone is in a hurry, hurry here hurry there! I went to the emergency room with Will, waited for 4 hours, saw the doctor for 5 minutes (literally!) and took home a $370 bill and me with no insurance! Grrrrr! Don't ever ever be a penny short or a second late around here!!

Now, I cannot write that last paragraph without giving a nod to all those here who are truly kind and graceful. Who bring joy and music into Will's life and mine. People out there deliberately act against this overwhelming tide of bad attitude and go out of their way to be exceptionally kind. I do try my darndest to be one of these people. It is hard sometimes when the pressures are getting to me and I really do need to be in a hurry. I may lose my manners but I rarely lose my smile in any kind of direct human contact. I find it immensely difficult to look someone in the eye and not smile or not acknowledge his or her presence. Have you ever seen someone who can be going about their daily life and look right through you when you approach them? What kind of a world do these people live in that has trained them to be this way? What kind of experiences must a person have to think "don't smile or nod because *this* might happen," whatever *this* is, I don't know. All I know is that when I'm interacting with someone, I'd like to have some acknowledgement that I am alive. I like to have a dialogue with someone, not a monologue, I don't want to talk to myself!! I want to talk with you and I want you to talk with me. Sigh.

On the home front, Will has gone to bed at 7:30pm for three days straight with NO fuss. Maybe I shouldn't have mentioned it, now it'll break the spell, I'll knock on wood! His temper tantrums are becoming fiercer. I'm getting better at ignoring him but it is having an effect on me, I become exasperated easily, but I don't let him know that! He is starting to talk more, repeat more and sign more. You should hear him trying to wrap his mouth around 'bumblebee' or 'helicopter.' So cute! We stayed home last weekend, except for church and a store run. I think he got mighty tired of hanging out with mom :( Oh well. We carved a pumpkin, which was not wholly a pleasant experience as the inside 'guts' were completely rotted. I can still smell it. Took me two hours to scrape all the mold off the insides and then boil it out. We had a pretty cool pumpkin in the end and its been outside rot-free ever since. Not sure if it will last till Halloween...keeping my fingers crossed. Will likes being up on the counters while mom works and will often bump his head on the overhead cabinets. He'll turn around and firmly say "No!" while pointing at the cabinet corner. I constantly have to swallow smiles. Good thing cause with all the coffee I drink, I really should have ulcers. I think the smiles counteract the effects of the caffeine.

Will LOVES wet wipes and will demand one and cry until he gets one. I made the mistake of trying to take him out of the bathroom before he had a chance to wipe down the shelf with his wet wipe, tantrum!

I bought him a potty-chair. He promptly removed the seat and sat inside the bucket as a proper man does (the seat up or down debate, I guess). Loves it, especially the stepstool aspect where he can now reach the sink to play in the water...horrors! This kid will play in water until it has evaporated! Never mind running water! He enjoys copying my morning routine, including putting my eyeliner on. He misses the mark by quite a bit, carefully applying a liberal amount to his chin on top of the layer of chapstick already there. I keep meaning to go to the store and put together a basket of tiny 'man' things for him to play with in the morning, a bottle of diluted aftershave, a comb, an empty razor (is that all????? or am I missing some secret male morning ritual? a small pair of nylons?) He already has his own toothbrush and screams for more toothpaste after the first bit is chewed off. He patiently ignores my offers of floss. I'm not keen on mouthwash. It ruins my morning coffee, so we don't do that. He loves my Oil of Olay and will smear it all over his face. He gave me my foundation brush while I was in the shower the other day, I tossed it on the bath rug only to find it back in my makeup case!!! He had to climb off the toilet and back on again to put it back. The daycare staff tells me that he is constantly putting the toys away.

I'm actually becoming more of a neat person as I've settled into my house, believe it or not. Every night I pick up everything before I go to bed and (Nana will love this part), I always look around before I go up or down the stairs so I'm never empty-handed. This is mostly due to the ultra squeaky stairs, which I avoid using as much as possible. I constantly wipe off the counter and clear the sink. I'm becoming someone I don't recognize! This really struck me the other day when I went into a alternative cafe for a cup of coffee. The person who waited on me had more rings in his body than anyone I've met, he was an Ozzy Osbourne wannabe. But he was nice enough and brewed a fresh pot of coffee for me (their slogan for their coffee was 'don't complain about our coffee, you will be old and weak someday too.') As I was saying before I love to make connections with people and his style didn't turn me off, I grew up with it. But I became acutely aware of how I must look to him, a middle aged professional getting a cup of coffee in a joint that doesn't typically serve coffee. 'She's got it all wrong' he thinks, ' and couldn't possibly understand someone as far out as I am.' He didn't really want to make eye contact either, but did out of a sense of necessity, I could tell I didn't make any other kind of personal human contact with him. I wanted to show him a hairy ankle and say 'I'm alternative too! We're not that different.'

You know what I find funny. Thinking of people in their socks and undies only. Its a great equalizer, even more so than the nude idea and its a little more classy that the 'on the john' visualization. There are still people who look great nude but I'm betting that there are even less people who look good in just their socks and underwear. All of those people are currently featured in Victoria's Secret catalog, so don't get any fantasies that you might be one of these elusive people. Imagine, if you will, George 'W' Bush in just his skivvies and socks. No more leader of the free world, just plain old Bush. Imagine your boss while he's sitting there lecturing, as they inevitably do. And you get a picture that is, I find, funny and a little sad, but always equalizing. They don't seem quite so important. Hair everywhere, especially the unshaven kind, and saggy areas of neon white flab. Sorry, Coco, not everyone gets an even tan all over. This train of thought comes about because I would be mortified if anyone saw me in socks and undies (sorry Will). I can empathize 100% with everyone I imagine in a similar state of affairs (or undress) and it helps me to relate to them. Not as a more sophisticated person, but as someone in this great big boat of life who is going along with them for the ride. It helps me to realize how ridiculous it is to worry about what other people think, because I can guarantee you that someone out there has visualized me in my BVD's. (I feel sorry for them actually) Anyway, to fritter away my precious life with how I will present to people is more than I can bear. I'm not going to spend countless hours of my life balanced on one foot in a slippery tub shaving insignificant hair off my legs, not to mention bits of skin, to avoid the possibility that one morning after glancing at my knee, a nurse I don't even know will say "Oh, my!" Wanna bet she was thinking of her own stubby knee?

posted by Candice at 8:04 PM

 
Unfortunately, this isn't a sweet blog about life's little doings, nor is it a soft blog about my 'woe is me' attitude. This one is about anger...and beauty.

I had all sorts of to-do things planned tonight once Will fell asleep. However, he was exceptionally hard to get to sleep tonight and tested my patience to its limit. More on that in a minute. The end result being, when he finally fell asleep, I had 'lost' two hours of work time that I had counted on. I came downstairs and flipped a mental bird at everything I felt I needed to do, the day-old laundry in the dryer, the food in the kitchen carpet, the half-stained wood shelf project, the toys scattered everywhere, not to mention all the unpacked boxes and endless clutter on the counter. Instead, I had decided to write my blog to help me vent my feelings.

I took off work early today and Will and I went to Wendy's, one of my favorite places to eat. (We don't go there often, I know, I know). I like going there because the staff is friendly and it is very pleasant place to be along with having (I think) good food. Throughout the meal, Will and I were chatting back and forth and laughing. Occasionally, he would lean over and request a hug or a kiss (He's such a sweetheart!). Across the room from us was a man and a woman and two boys, I'd say about age 7. It took me a while to realize that they were dressed in similar shirts and I figured they were twins, nothing extraordinary. My thoughts were rambling on the stressors and joys of twins when I saw the family stand up to go. All of a sudden, I realized that the woman (I'm assuming she was their mother) had kicked one of the boys to get him to stop playing around. Nothing nice and gentle, but a good hard kick, very uncalculated...she forgot she was in a public place. Now she had my full attention and I believe she knew she had my attention. She was very polite all the way out to the car, but she walked like a large woman who thinks she has a lot of power and wants everyone to know it (my humble observation). This type of power is often physical in nature and directed at others to compensate for the lack of or perceived lack of power or control in one's life.

I can't begin to describe all the emotions and thoughts that ran through me in that single moment. Mainly, it felt like she had kicked a part of my soul. It was a feeling that I would do almost anything to prevent, and yet there was absolutely nothing I could do in that moment. It was a very ineffectual feeling. It gave me a flashback to a meeting that I had this morning. We were discussing an assessment case and the patient's history was narrated. Her history was rife with episodes of verbal, physical, emotional and spiritual abuse (no apparent sexual abuse, thank goodness for small favors, right?). This patient, at 47 years old, had numerous, debilitating problems that were most likely due to this dysfunctional upbringing. I remember feeling so ineffectual. If that was my therapy patient, what could I possibly do to help her? There is no cure for this patient, she will never feel 'normal,' whatever that means. I might be able to help her manage some of her symptoms. But she will always carry that baggage, that history of her shaping. A sapling that is forced to bend one way while growing will never straighten as an adult tree, even if the original bending force is removed. I fantasized that it would be most helpful to be able to travel back through time 40 years and help that little girl whose own grandmother would hold her upside-down by her ankles and bash her head against the floor.

People were outraged recently when a mother was caught on tape hitting her little girl. 'Of course, only a truly depraved person could do such a horrible thing'. Wait a minute....stop and think here. Have you never, ever, ever felt that kind of rage? All of us have done something, at one point or another, that if caught on tape, would be upseting. Not necessarily that beating-type of incident, but none-the-less, we all have our secret moments. I'm not justifying what this mother did, but I am asking you (and myself) not to judge until you have met this mother and heard her story. Maybe she was beaten every day since she can remember and that is an acceptable thing to do in her family. Maybe she was under the influence of drugs or medication. Maybe, just maybe, no one ever bothered to take her hand and teach or model to her some appropriate coping behaviors to use when under stress and she had no other way of expressing her feelings. My heart just aches for the mother, as well as the child, as well as for the family in Wendy's. I know I may not be the best therapist because when a patient shares his or her deepest pains, I am right there and just as liable to cry alongside them as I am doing now. Being an empath can be a terrible burden but it can also be enlightening and a way to create bridges and understandings.

So now I've spoken about both sides of pain, inflicting and receiving. In my role as a counselor, I constantly struggle with the fact that the pain I'm trying to heal has already happened. My futile frustration is that I can never make it so that the pain was never there, never completely smooth those scars away. But where would we be without those scars...they add character and build strength, they are what makes each of us uniquely individual. Think back to your own moments of pain, how have they shaped you? Would you have the depth of character that you do now without those moments? Would you have any understanding or comprehension of other's pain without having experienced your own? Indeed, would you have anything to talk about with other people if you had no painful memories? The most fascinating people are those who can talk about great pain and how they learned and grew from it. Their souls shine through with great strength. Think of David Pelzer, author of 'A Boy Called It,' or Anne Frank and Eli Wiesel, who both suffered in the holocaust, or Rosa Parks. It doesn't have to be that dramatic. I think back on my own life and perceive that I have experienced pain that, on first thought, I would rather not have experienced. After thinking about it, I cam e to the conclusion, that I would not be the person I am today without that pain, without my scars. When people tell me I am beautiful, I try to listen and remember that the absence of scars does not equal beauty.

The patients I see are the ones whose souls are so disfigured with scars, that they believe they don't know what a beautiful soul feels like, or how it functions. They are unable to be complete, functioning members of society, or fully able to share their pain to help others because of how they perceive themselves. The good news is that, often, this is simply a matter of perception. I can help people who firmly believe their souls are ugly and help them see the beauty and rejoice in themselves and help them to share that beauty with others (easier said than done!!). I need to emphasize that beauty is not the absence of scars or wrinkles or all those things we consider to be negative in our externally-obsessed culture. Beauty is the character that living a full life brings to each person. Try it...the next time you recoil from a person's external appearance or unexplained behavior, look into their eyes and dare to find out who they really are. Maybe they will turn out to be ugly inside, if so, send them along to me. More than likely, I find that people are like raw gold, you have to dig and pan a little to find the beauty, but its there if you are willing to look. So what makes one person's soul grow more beautiful from pain and another's grow more horrifying, either pulling the pain upon themselves or inflicting it upon weaker beings? I don't know, I'm only human and facing my own pains. And facing the real possibility that I may knowingly or unknowlingly cause Will to experience his own pains.

All these thoughts have raced through my head in a matter of minutes back in Wendy's. Then I start rationalizing..."I would never have the inclination to do that" (remember, this is in Wendy's, with Will in a pleasant mood and giving me hugs occasionally.) "I've been angry with Will before but I've never been tempted to do anything other than gently swat his diapered bottom." (Is that why he never minds me?) To be honest here, I don't believe I would ever kick another person deliberately, let alone a child. However, I cannot claim to be innocent of the frustration that these mothers may have been feeling during their horrific acts.

Tonight was a case-in-point. After an hour and a half of Will getting in and out of bed, up and down and kicking me and crying and me reading to him and singing to him and gently re-directing him back to his pillow, I realized how much time had gone by and how much work I wasn't going to get done and if I stayed up to do it all, then I would lose out on my own precious sleep time and I began to get really angry and frustrated. Logically, what was going through my mind was that "Will is in the process of learning how to go to bed and it is my fault for not teaching him how to do it properly, I need to go research and find an appropriate approach to bedtime that will make this process easier." Emotionally, it was a whole different ballgame. I was beginning to get furious and was less and less able to redirect him without showing him that I was upset. However, the main difference between these other moms and me is that I have a better self-detection and redirection method than they. I recognized that I was seriously upset and reviewed my options (none of which involved Will). I could leave and go down the stairs (but he might fall down them), I could take out my anger physically and punch a wall (I know that would feel so good, but I can't afford the emergency room charges to fix my hand or the landlord charges to fix the wall), I could take Will back downstairs with me and try to work on chores (I've already done this once, it didn't work and it was almost 10pm). I finally decided on turning my back to Will in the bed, letting him kick my back non-stop, taking nice calming breaths, and composing the beginning of this blog in my head. It was eventually effective in getting Will to fall asleep but it did nothing to ease the frustration I felt. Typing this blog is what has immensely helped me to end a frustrating and anger-filled day on a more positive feel. Those who know me will understand that anger is not a defining point in my personality and I believe that they would have difficulty coming up with a time when I have displayed anger physically. I am grateful for this medium to express my feelings and thank you to those who have made it thus far. It was not an easy blog to write and probably not an easy one to read. Thank you.

"Never dismiss a person's dreams, they may be all that person has to hold on to." Unknown Author.

posted by Candice at 7:08 PM

 
Hello, hello! The house is starting to take shape. I have half the boxes unpacked, all of the essentials. The rest of the boxes are full of books (about 20 of them!!) and miscellaneous decorative stuff that I will get to eventually. My kitchen is almost done...I need to get the empty boxes out of here and a few things that are going to go in different rooms. The biggest impediment to putting away stuff is having something to put my stuff in. George Carlin does a great skit on storing stuff and I think of it often and smile when I am going through my stuff. It also helps to remember that a lot of this stuff is not important so I am trying to 'weed' out my collection of stuff. We are sleeping in a real bed tonight for the first time on the second floor. Wahoo!

Will is developing in leaps and bounds! First, the amazing thing is that he has not been sick once since we have been here (of course, now that I mention it...) My dear friend Fabiana has placed her daughter in daycare for the first time this year. Her daughter, Cata, has been seemingly non-stop sick since she started and Fabi is exhausted most of the time. I am so glad that I went through that ordeal when I did last year. He is starting to develop a larger vocabulary. It is probably larger than I think because I can't understand much of what he is babbling about. I do know he knows most of what I am saying though, and will nod or cry in response. He tries to dress himself but will still allow me to dress him. He is independent in many ways but not to the point of frustration for me :) It does help that I usually put his outfits on the night before (the soft comfy ones anyway). He loves taking baths and doesn't care if its the tub or the sink. He actually indicated that he was ready for a bath long before I was even thinking about it. He will taste anything I am eating, though he doesn't like much of it, he will often give it two or three tries before rejecting things completely. He is starting to say please and thank you spontaneously and will consistently repeat it after me. Blewe away the other day when he demanded a bottle of hand cleaner off of the counter and played with it for a while. I found it later under the sink where it belonged. He loves to clean with wet wipes and will become furious if he can't have one immediately upon request. Best of all, he is a great hugger and loves to give long tight squeezes. He will stop his playing once in a while to toddle over and hug my leg for a moment and then go back to playing. All the girls at daycare seem to love him, he always blows kisses goodbye and will sometimes run back for a quick hug before leaving. Everyday when I go to pick him up and he sees me for the first time, his face just lights up and his mouth forms a smiling 'O' and he charges towards me for a big bear hug. I love it. Love it, love it, love it! I love waking him up in the morning, grumpy at first but then turning into kisses and tickles and giggles. Then he will start talking as if he was telling me about his dream and I'll tell him that I missed him while he was sleeping. He'll do something silly and I'll tell him he's a nut, but reassure him that everyone loves a nut! When he is naughty, I'll call him a twerp and remind myself that he has not yet developed judgement. Once in a while I will raise my voice to prevent an accident 'hey!' or 'no!' 'Accident" means dumping his juice into his dinner plate or emptying a bag of pretzels on the floor. So far, I have managed to set up the house so that there is not much he could get into trouble with...the stairs are the most dangerous thing right now and when I am more sure of my financial situation I will go and purchase a good gate for the top of the stairs. This is especially crucial now that we are sleeping on the second floor. There is no water to fall into or plugs to put a finger in. I cook on the back burners of the stove. The oven is new and the door doesn't get hot, and when the door is open, he avoids it like the plague, hates it actually (Hot!, Hot!) He can't get out into the street unless I open the door. Nothing to trip over or choke on. He could fall off the counter while he is eating as I don't have a high chair, or table and chairs to eat on, however, I am right there eating my dinner too. What else? I never open the bathroom window on the second floor as it does not have a screen. However, the screens on the bedroom windows should not be trusted, I wonder if there's anything I can install to prevent the possobility of him pushing them out?? There are roofs under each window, which might look tempting to a budding climber. I'm afraid that he might wake up while I am downstairs working and silently climb out of bed and head outside. Not likely, but what if? Several times a day a horror scene will pop into my head of something bad happening and I will have to face life without him and it terrifies me. I have thought like this since before he was born...it will never end, will it? My heart is walking around outside my body and there's nothing I can do about it.

A few quick things that I could expand on later, send me a note to tell me which ones you want.
1. I ran into my friends the other night in the most outrageous coincidence.
2. I'm wondering if the things I am writing here are begining to sound redundant. They are thoughts that I have often and writing really makes it obvious to me that I go round and round on issues without resolving them.
3. Internship is not at all like I have heard it to be. I was imagining it to be incredibly stressful, however I am finding that 'I've tried the shoe on and it fits.' I like what I am doing and for the first time in 7 years I'm thinking that I really did go into the right profession. Remember, I believe the secret of life is a comfortable pair of shoes :)
4. Every week at church the minister (pastor/father/grand poohbah? a wonderful and inspiring man, whatever his title is) tells us that we drink from wells we have not dug, warm ourselves besides fires we have not kindled, and we stand on the shoulders of all who have gone before. It makes me realize that I have never had an original thought in my entire life. Neither have you.
5. Will and I are going to a cabin this weekend and if you are interested in seeing pictures of it, type in this website: www.bluebirdbungalow.com
6. I took a personality test for one of my seminars and found the results quite interesting. I can post some of the statements and see if you agree.


posted by Candice at 6:30 PM